•• ••Winded•• ••
by chapchomper
Summary: Ginny Weasley is struggling to bring back the girl she used to be. Draco Malfoy, is lost, and haunted by horrific memories. Putting their school days behind, the two become friends, maybe more. But who can forget that Draco's most hated enemies lie within
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they belong entirely to J.K. Rowling. This is purely my mind running wild…                                                             

**                                                                   .****•*•. ••Winded•• .•*•.**

I've never been one to get too close. Men have never been a serious part of my life. They just think of me as a smart girl with a pretty face. They never really know me. They never really want to. As guilty as it feels to admit it, I've only ever thought of the male race as a game. Just one big kiddie game waiting for me to crash it. Tag, you're it. I've figured them out; they're no mystery. All the same. Whistling after the snobby girl with the big chest or cute face; never giving the kind, downright good hearted ones, spotted with acne, or cursed with a boyish frame, a second glance. All the same. There's no mystery to them anymore; I've grown out of the game. 

            When jerk #73 attempted to kiss me goodnight, something inside me snapped. The whistle blew. Game postponed. I didn't give him a backward glance as I walked swiftly down the street; the frightful 'shoes' on my feet echoing into the black night. I didn't know where I was going to go, but I knew it couldn't be far. The third blister on my heel had apparently just burst.

            Stumbling through the doors of the pub, I coughed as an ugly blend of different colored smoke blurred my vision. I edged my way to the bar, wincing with every other step. Sinking down onto the stool, I let out a stream of curses that had been waiting to escape me since my 'date' had stuck me with the bill. I heard someone laugh beside me. Glancing in their direction, I took in a handsome man watching me, a smile still on his lips. Double take.

            "I don't like it here much either," He joked, a twinkle in his grey eyes. Triple take. I couldn't keep my eyes from widening, but the gasp I managed to hold down. It couldn't be him. It was. Had he recognized me? No… Not many people would. Okay. Play it cool.

            "Oh! No, not that…just a bad night," I laughed nonchalantly. 

            "Care to share? C'mon, I'll buy you a drink," I heard that one a lot. But this time it was different. Unlike so many men I met he wasn't looking for more than someone to talk to over a drink. Slowly, I nodded with a smile. Mid-nod, I almost stopped myself. I had almost forgotten who I was sitting next to. But another part of me took over. A part that was ready to give second chances. I had given myself one, after all. The drinks came, and he turned his attention back to me. His full attention. The way he looked me in the eyes made me feel like I was the only one in the room; the only one on his mind. "So…spill…No! Wait. Let me guess." He closed his eyes, an obviously fake mystical expression coming over his features. I couldn't help but laugh. This wasn't him. It couldn't be. I had heard the rumors; I knew what he had gone through. But I hadn't believed that he had changed. I hadn't believed that he could ever change. Knowing the boy that had tormented me for six years of my life, I didn't blame myself for not believing a stupid rumor. But he had changed. Sitting right in front of me, new and very much improved. "Is that it?" He reminded me of a dog, looking for praise from its master. 

            "What? Sorry," I felt a slight heat rise to my cheeks. He pretended to look exasperated with me.

            "I guessed a bad date," I grinned at him and nodded. He looked playfully pleased with himself. The old smirk had vanished permanently from his face. "Ok. Now you can spill. All the gruesome details." I laughed again.

            "You sure seem determined to find a miserable person." For a split second the genuine happiness on his face flickered. 

            "I already found one," He said quietly. Almost as if it was ok if I didn't hear. I knew he was talking about himself. I cursed myself. Great. I had upset him. In truth it was a tiny fraction of the amount he had upset me in the past, but I wasn't about to let myself think about that. A fiery determination was building inside me. I could feel a wave of the old me rising to the surface. I wanted to make him laugh. Not at me. But with me. I wanted to make his eyes twinkle like they had when I first sat down. Without hesitation I started the horrific tale of my 'hot date'. And he did laugh. 

            We talked and talked. We talked until we were physically kicked out of the pub. And we kept talking after that. He absolutely fascinated me. The way he seemed to go to any lengths to make me laugh. The way he smoothly avoided the subject of his past. The more we talked the more I wanted to get to know him. Really know him. Finally a silence fell over us. We were sitting on the rickety bench outside the pub. The darkness had us. I could not see his features clearly. 

            "Do you want to…meet again?" He finally asked. I did. I told him so. We would meet here again tomorrow. I turned to leave. "Hey, wait!" I looked over my shoulder to see him jogging after me. "I-," He was out of breath. "I-,"  He was laughing. I never thought I'd live to see the day when he laughed at himself. "I don't know your name," I forced out a laugh, my mind racing. If I told him who I was he wouldn't want to see me again. What if he just turned back into his old self? What if this was just an act he put on for women? The air was silent around us. 'Ginny Weasley' was on the tip of my tongue. No. I couldn't give him my real name.

            "Ella." I forced out. Where the hell had that come from? Even in the darkness I knew he was grinning. 

            "Draco," I barely made out a light skinned hand outstretched. I took it.

            "Nice to meet you Draco." The air rang with our laughter.

**(A/N: R &R! No flames please, but constructive criticism is always welcome!)**


	2. Chapter 2

                                                Hellooooo, and thanks for all your wonderful reviews!!        

Lucianna—Thanks, I'm glad you like it!

Kick My Tush—Thanks for your review, and your tip on Draco's personality. I agree with you, and you shall definitely be seeing some sexy sarcasm soon. :D                 

the FLAMER—Thank ya! Hope you like the next chapter as well.

elvenprincess17-imladris—Glad this caught your attention, more coming!

Fresh-AngelBabe—Thanks! **You** are absolutely smashing, my dear. Lol :P

                                                                                    Chapter 2.

I groaned and rolled over in bed. I had been awoken by a knocking on my door…well, now it was a pounding. I sat up groggily. The knocking grew louder.

            "I'm coming!" I yelled in aggravation as I stood up. Head rush. What time was it? Instead of a normal clock I had a traditional Weasley clock on the wall of my kitchen. Glancing at it, Ginny, Ron, and Harry were all pointing at 'Home', well; now I knew who was outside my door. Throwing my un-brushed hair into a messy bun I quickly looked around for my wand. It was no where in sight. Sighing with annoyance, I walked to the door myself, and threw it open by hand.

            "It's about time Gin." Ron sounded impatient as he invited himself in. He was followed by Harry who smiled, and mouthed a 'Hello'. I smiled back and looked at my brother. He had settled on my couch, his face the home of an ugly expression. I looked questioningly at Harry who shook his head slightly. There was an awkward silence, which Ron broke. "So, where were you last night?" I raised an eyebrow at the rough, heated tone of his voice.

            "I was out…" He rolled his eyes," On a date…" He looked only slightly interested.

            "With who?" I hesitated. It suddenly struck me that I could not remember my own date's name. Well, the first date. If you could call it a date. But could you call the second one a date? The one with Draco. We had talked…that was it. Well…whatever it was, I was not about to tell the two people who possible hated Draco more than anyone else about it.

            "What do you mean?" I asked slowly. Ron made a sound of aggravation,

            "His name Ginny," I took little offence in Ron's behavior, and instead felt a twinge of shame,

            "I…I don't know," I finally said, not wanting to meet their eyes. I knew that Ron was giving me a piercing look.

            "Honestly Ginny…Muggle or Wizard?" At least I knew the answer to this one.

            "Muggle." Ron was surveying me.

            "You look horrible. What time did you get to bed? What did you do on your date?" He paused, suddenly looking disgusted, but protective all the same. "He's not here is he?!" He stood up on impulse and peered into my bedroom. I was beginning to feel like kicking him out.

            "No Ron. We cut the date short." He raised an eyebrow at me, "I just went to the Smoldering Toad for a few drinks after." I left it at that, but I still felt the desperate need to tell someone about Draco. "Where's Herm—," I started, but Harry shaking his head furiously caught my eye. I stopped, nervously looking at the both of them. Ron threw Harry a glare, and Harry pretended to be shaking his now jaw-line-length hair out of his eyes.

            "I don't know where Hermione is." He said in a tone that clearly dismissed the subject. I didn't say anything. Ron looked fixedly at a scratch on the oak coffee table. Harry cleared his throat.

            "So, Gin, what are you doing tonight?" Going on a date with Draco Malfoy under the alias of Ella. I almost laughed at what their reactions would be if I said this out loud. That would certainly take Ron's mind off Hermione.

            "I don't know…probably go out to the Smoldering Toad again or something," I stated ever so casually. "Why?"

            "Oh…Luna wanted to have you guys over to dinner." He looked foreboding at the thought of Luna cooking. I laughed.

            "Maybe tomorrow."

            "Right, come on Ron, lets' go find your wife." He grinned at me, and heaved Ron off the couch. 

            "Tell Hermione to come see me when you find her," Harry nodded as he gave a little waved and left, a dazed, gloomy looking Ron following.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

            I dashed across the room for the fifth time that evening. This time it was to fetch my can of hairspray from my room. I really do need to find that wand of mine. I overturned my entire apartment in my search, stubbing my toe twice, and knocking over the bed-stand, successfully smashing my alarm clock, which made a sound like a tea kettle, and exploded in a blur of purple smoke. I screamed in exasperation, causing the elderly muggle woman downstairs to come to my door, concerned, after hearing an explosion and a scream. I finally found my wand in the refrigerator (how many drinks had I had last night?). 

            At last, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, ready to meet Draco. I couldn't understand why I was so nervous; it wasn't even an official date… I sighed and frowned at my appearance.

            "Relax, you look fine dear." The mirror tried to comfort me, but I wasn't listening. I hated what I saw; I hated who I had become. I wanted the old Ginny back. The fiery, free spirited, independent innocent little Weasley girl. Not this fake, man-eating girl, taking the safe route through life. The long wavy hair cascading down my back had lost its blazing appearance. It was a washed-out color; a result of the many hair dies I had used on it. My face, once spattered with freckles, looked pale and sickly without them. Slender eyebrows arched over heavily shadowed eyes. Unrecognizable. That was me. A whole different person. At first it had been a breath of fresh air. I went through the men like Hermione goes through books. At first I had enjoyed not having to please anyone with what I said or did; I just sat there looking like the pretty bimbo they thought I was, nodding occasionally, my mind on Harry. Harry. It always came back to Harry. We had been sweethearts since my Sixth year at Hogwarts. You could say it was his fault. I used to tell myself it was when I cried myself to sleep all those nights after he had broken my heart. This was in the midst of Voldemort's short reign of power over the wizarding world. When it was all over I finally forgave Harry. We had remained friends, but my heart still broke every time I met his eyes. There was a depth of sorrow in them. A mere shadow of darkness in the brilliant green pools, but obvious all the same. The shadow seemed to lift slightly when Luna Lovegood came back into all of our lives. 

            I felt a jolt of excitement, and a wave of shame washed over me as I recognized the familiar lifted feeling in my stomach that I had felt when I knew I was about to see Harry. Draco Malfoy. New and Improved. I laughed, and shook my head, as I grabbed my purse and walked briskly out the door of my apartment. 


	3. Chapter 3

                                                                                    **Chapter 3.**

Stepping once more into the hazy atmosphere of the Smoldering Toad I took a quick glance around. He wasn't here. I scanned the pub slower this time, but he was nowhere in sight. He wasn't here. He. Was. Not. Here. My heart seemed to plummet and smash on the scuffed, worn wooden floor. I had seen this coming; of course I had. I had been dreading this happening since I left my apartment 10 rushed minutes ago. How could I have ever been so stupid as to believe he could change? Once again I had set myself up for heartbreak. For the thousandth time in my life I cursed Draco Malfoy. I cursed the day I met him until the day I thought I had seen him for the last time. For the first time in a long time I was on my side. My own side. 

            My mind floated back to the day I had heard the news. Front page of the daily prophet. Ron had scanned the article with a look of malicious bliss on his face, but I had read and re-read it periodically through out the day, sorrow welling up inside me, my heart going out to the Malfoys…or what was left of them. I had been frustrated with myself of course. I had no control over the outburst at supper. I was powerless over the angry words aimed at Ron as he scoffed and grinned stupidly to himself. Six years of hell from Draco Malfoy, and I had pitied him. 

            Something in his eyes last night had made me so sure he was different, but I was used to making mistakes. This too would pass. The lump in my throat abruptly turned into a scream of anger, which was on the tip of my tongue when I heard a voice behind me.

            "Looking for me?" I almost choked. Trying desperately to look cool and composed, I turned to face him. Once again, I almost choked on the freshly swallowed scream of rage. He was grinning sheepishly, revealing a set of pearly whites to give Lockhart a run for his money. His hair, no longer slicked back in his old egotistical fashion, but still a breathtaking blonde, fell into his steely grey eyes. But something was not right. His eyes, although shining happily seemed oddly closed off. But…on second thought, perhaps that's how they had always looked; I had never bothered to notice. He was tall. Almost as tall as Ron, although firmly built as opposed to my brother's scrawny, slightly wimpy figure. I flushed a little, embarrassed at my slight panic attack. Masking it with one of my rare true grins, I nodded. He opened his mouth to say something apologetic, but I cut him off before he had even began.

            "It's okay. I only just got here too." Looking slightly surprised, he grinned back.

            "Looks like I've found the next Trelawney…" I laughed, and he motioned for me to sit down at one of the small wooden tables in the smoky corner of the tavern. "Did you…go to Hogwarts?" 

            "Yes," I replied without thinking. He looked thoughtful.

            "I knew you looked familiar…Ella…what house were you in?" His words seemed to float across the table to me; I was comprehending them much slower than I should be. I could not help but marvel at the way my fake name rolled off his tongue. 'What house were you in?' A good five seconds after the question had been asked, my eyes widened a fraction, and my heart jumped into my throat. Good one Weasley.

            "Gr—Huffle—Claw." I stammered. Smooth Ginny, real smooth. He looked at me for a second, a smile creeping onto his lips.

            "Grhuffleclaw." He repeated calmly, as if this were an actual house, the trace of a laugh in his voice, a hint of a smirk on his lips. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing the embarrassment to pass. 

            "Gryffindor," I laughed. He did not look disgusted, "What about you?" I tried my best to put on a convincingly interested face. He looked me in the eyes, expression faltering slightly.

            "Ah…Slytherin," He said quietly. I pretended to laugh.

            "What a match we are," It sounded forced. I sensed that he could tell, but he simply laughed too. A normal, human laugh. All malice gone without a trace.

            "Yes indeed…" 

            After the small pothole at the beginning of our conversation, we started to talk smoothly again. Amazing how I felt I could talk to him all night. Astounding how we had reached an unspoken agreement to stay off the subject of Hogwarts. It was obvious that we were both not entirely comfortable, and not entirely truthful about this topic. I could tell he wanted to tell me more than he was limiting himself too. I myself came close to telling him who I really was. But I couldn't. Not yet. 

            Always having a bit of an unhealthy fascination with people, I could not help but watch him more intently than I should have. I tried to pick out bits and pieces of the old Draco. There were definitely a few of the old mannerisms in him; they way he could look casual, and coolly uninterested in any position. Whether it was leaning placidly back in his chair, hands behind his head or straddling the wooded arm of the chair, an incident that was the result of a rather humorous conversation about broomsticks. I noticed how he could twist sarcasm smoothly into the conversation, always making me laugh. It was not directed at anyone, so while it had been humiliating at school when I was the target of the nasty humor, it was funny, and dare I say, sexy in a way.

            At the end of the night we parted with an awkward goodbye handshake, and his word that he would stop by my place if I owled him the address. I watched him disappear down the dark street before turning and walking…no…floating back home. 

            I looked quickly over my shoulder as I drew my wand out of my pocket when I came to my locked door. No one in sight. With a swift movement, the door was open and my wand was back in my pocket. Turning the pitiable light on, I almost screamed.

            "Hermione!" I gasped, shutting the door, trying to slow my pounding heart. The figure curled neatly up on my couch stirred.

            "Hey Gin," She said groggily, sitting up, a hand over her eyes, momentarily blinded by the little light produced by the 'trustworthy' muggle appliance in the corner. I kicked my shoes off, threw my jacket onto the coat rack and sat down next to her.

            "So I guess my brother found you at last, then," She scowled.

            "Harry found me…Listen Gin…Would it be alright if I stay here tonight?" She looked me in the eyes for a brief second, a brooding expression settling on her face. I decided not to ask. I nodded, and hesitated, wondering whether I should tell her about Draco. Who else would I tell? Who else would she tell? After all, she wasn't exactly on speaking terms with my brother...

"Hermione, listen—," She did not obey. Words were spilling out of her mouth, and as usual, when she was distressed, they seemed to come in an incomprehensible stream.

"Gin, Idon'tevenknowwhatwe'refightingabout!" She wailed. I frowned, looking sympathetic, while trying to piece together what she had just said. "I mean…it could be about anything. We argue a lot—about the stupidest things—but then it turns into a huge argument. Never this big, of course, but we were yelling…and then…I—I just left. I don't even know where I went…I just kind of wandered around Diagon Alley all day until Harry found me. I was hoping it would be Ron…but he's your brother, you know him as well as I do. He's just so stubborn! He'll never admit when he's wrong—," She jabbered, most likely talking to the burn on the coffee table.

"Hermione. Hermione!" I cut her off, anxious to stop the blabbering. She looked up, a fire still in her eyes. I suddenly felt at a loss for words. She looked at me expectantly, and then opened her mouth as if to start talking again. "I—I'm…" I made pointless gestures in the air, stalling for time. She seemed to notice my struggle, and looked slightly concerned. "I'm…sort of…datingDracoMalfoy." The words that spilled out of my mouth sounded mixed and rushed, as hers often did.

The silence hung in the air for one unbearable moment as she processed the words. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened dramatically. 

**So, as always, R&R, and I'll love you forever :D**


	4. Chapter 4

                                                                                                **Chapter 4**

I suddenly found myself missing the stream of chatter bubbling from her lips. The silence was so still it gave a time-freezing affect to the awkward moment. For one glorious moment Hermione looked as if she were about to say something, but in the end she just closed her mouth, still staring at me with wide eyes.

"You can say something Herm," I stated… no, pleaded.

"Like what?" Her tone was suddenly icy. An urgent need to clarify was clawing at me, trying to escape. I took a deep breath, mentally processing an appropriate explanation. "No. Ginny, don't. I didn't say anything, but I'm worried about you. We all are. You're out of control, and I know that sounds overdramatic," She said quickly, giving me a pointed look, because I was trying to talk over her, "but it's true. You've been dating ten guys a week, I don't even want to know what you've been doing with them, but I have a pretty good idea. What if…something…happened, with one of those muggle boys? How would you explain who you are to them?" I raised a disgusted eyebrow. This was not the reaction I had anticipated. "But Malfoy, Ginny? Honestly! He's a--," Hermione uttered several words I had never thought I would hear her say. I couldn't help but feel a distinct feeling of pride at being the cause of those words. Must tell Ron. Her ton softened, "I don't know if you planned this to make Harry jealous, but—,"

"What?!" I yelped. This was way too much. "Hermione! First of all, I don't give a damn what Harry thinks, Second I'm not paying him to go out with me or anything; we met in a pub…and I like him." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Ginny…I just think….It's…unlikely that he would go out with you unless he's got something up his sleeve." I couldn't help but feel a little offended at this.

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. But he's the enemy, remember? We hate him, and he hates us."

"He doesn't know who I am."

"Excuse me?"

"He thinks my name is Ella." Hermione snorted disdainfully.

"My god Hermione! Just because you and my brother are having problems doesn't mean you have to be mad at me too," I cried angrily. She looked me in the eye, and slowly, her face softened.

"Sorry Gin. I'm just trying to protect you. He could be dangerous," It was my turn to snort.

"I'm telling you he's not. Honestly, the way you guys treat me. You forget that I'm only **one year** younger than you. He's changed. You remember the article," She chose to only acknowledge the latter part of what I had voiced.

"How could I forget? Ron had it framed. It's true then?" I hesitated. **Was it true?**

"I'm not completely sure." She gave me another one of her skeptical looks. I continued quickly, before she could begin to talk again. "But it has to be…it's the only explanation. If you met him you'd get it…he **has** changed Hermione, just trust me, okay?"

"You should ask him." There was something wrong with this girl.

"Oh, right, sure Herm. What the hell do you propose I'd say? 'I had a great time on our date Draco, oh, and by the way, did you by any chance watch your mother murdered by your father?'" I said sarcastically, a ditzy smile plastered on my face. Hermione gave me another look.

"You should at least tell him who you are," She was right.

"I know. I will. I'll invite him over tomorrow."

"You'll invite him over? To your house?" Hermione gave me a McGonagall look.

"No Herm, I thought we could have a cozy conversation out in the hallway." Another look, "Yes, I'll invite him **to my house**."

**Hey Draco, I was hoping you could drop by my flat sometime tomorrow. It's in Dwight; Number 7, Hebden Drive. There's an old muggle woman on the first floor, and a muggle family down the hall from me, so you'll have to apparate to the Smoldering Toad, and walk the rest of the way; it's not far. There's something I need to tell you.**

**'Ella'**

Lame, in my opinion, but writing with Hermione hovering over your shoulder, throwing out grammar tips, is not an easy thing to do. Anyhow, I awoke to Hermione's shriek. Rushing out into the living room, I saw my tousle-haired friend sitting up, sheets and blankets tangled around her, pillows on the floor. A jet black screech owl, whose feathers shone an ink green in the sunlight pouring in through the window, was looking down at her, very unimpressed.

"Sorry Gin…just wasn't ready for that first thing in the morning," she breathed. The owl gave her one last scrutinizing look, before swiftly gliding over to me, perching on my shoulder. I knew what she meant. I couldn't help but tilt my head a little away from it. Its beady red eyes were eying my neck, sharp beak glinting ominously. It crawled closer to my head. I froze, not daring to shoo it away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw its face, complete with razor sharp mouth, leaning closer to me. I stood, rigid, expecting the worst. I was surprised at a light tickling sensation as it gently started to fiddle with, and clean my hair. I let out a laugh of relief. I held out my opposite arm, and it hopped on, outstretching its leg. I recognized the letter I had written the previous night. Scrawled quickly below my own writing was a single sentence from Draco.

**I'll stop by around ****noon**

Damn. I had hoped for some sort of poetical reply, so I could prove to Hermione that he had indeed changed for the better. Hermione was looking quizzically at me. I handed her the letter, and glanced at the clock. 11:02. Hermione was also looking at it.

"I think I'd better go find Ron." She said softly, obviously not in any hurry to see Draco again. I nodded faintly in agreement, my mind on something else entirely. After a quick panic from Hermione, who thought she had lost her wand, she had apparated. The Weasley clock on my wall showed her at 'Ron's house'. I collapsed on the couch. I couldn't do it. I couldn't confess. He would hate me; he'd never want to see me again. But I had to. I couldn't keep lying to him. I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

After a quick shower, I pulled on what I thought were suitable clothes, and ate a quick breakfast. I sat back down on the couch. Usually a source of comfort, the squashy material felt hard and uncomfortable. I fidgeted. My palms were uncharacteristically sweaty, my heartbeat was quick, my stomach fluttering. My contemplations of worse-case-scenarios were abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door.

For a few moments, I seriously considered simply not answering it. I bit my lip, stood up, and abruptly sat back down. The knocking grew louder. Heart in my throat, I flung it open. Wow. His clothes were casual, hair somewhat slicked. Again, stray wisps fell into those mysterious eyes. He took in my fretting expression. I loved how his eyes traveled slowly over me, as if to create a visual memory. Up my body, across my neck, over my lips, to meet my eyes.

"Don't look so happy to see me." I smiled weakly; what had I gotten myself into? I held the door open, shut it behind him, and wordlessly motioned for him to sit down. In a smooth motion he leaned back on the couch, hands behind his head, crossing his feet on the coffee table. I smiled again; some things never changed. "So…what did you want to talk to me about?" He put his feet on the floor, and sat up straighter, watching me intently. I had lost all ability to speak. I sat down beside him.

"Me," I managed to squeak. Real smooth, Ginny. He cocked an eyebrow,

"…Ok…" It had just struck me how conceited I sounded. I winced.

"I mean. I-that-El-…that's not what I meant," Well…we're on a roll here, aren't we? A smile twitched on his lips. I took a deep breath. Words were not coming to me; no witty remarks, or smooth explanations. I was blank. I looked up at his face. Pools of silvery-grey looked encouragingly back at me. "Do you know who I am?" 

"You're Ella…?" I had not given him a last name. He flushed slightly and tried again, in a more confident voice. "You're Ella." It was a statement. I shook my head. His eyes were locked firmly onto mine. 

"You know who I am." I tried to say steadfastly, but instead it came out breathy. His eyes were penetrating deeply into mine. A deathly silence filled the room. Again, his eyes looked oddly shut off. I knew he was thinking hard, venturing into memories he had tried for a long time to forget; but I could not see thoughts beyond the icy grey.

"Weasley." His voice was low and distant. A painful fire was sparking somewhere inside. Anger I had been waiting years to let out. A stream of curses was on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed hard, and took a deep breath.

"I have a name," I hissed. He did not reply. My vocal chords were strung taut, waiting to snap in an angry shout. But at the look on his face, I abruptly stopped. The look I had seen so many times; every day when I looked in the mirror. Hatred. Not for me, not for Harry, or anyone else that haunted his memories; Hatred of himself. Out of the blue, I felt close to tears. I turned words over in my brain, trying not to say something lame. "Look, Draco. Can't we just…start over or something?" And that wasn't lame at **all, **Weasley. Faltering slightly, I continued my babbling, searching desperately for a point, "I mean we had a great time before when you didn't know who I was, and know that you do know who I am it shouldn't be any different right? I gave you a second chance when I knew who you were, so—,"

"—Ginny." I stopped, mid breath. The apologetic look in his eyes matched mine. He seemed to struggle with something for a moment. "I'm… sorry." Two words I would have never thought could enter his vocabulary. Sure, it didn't begin to make up for what he had put me through at school; but it was much more that I had expected. I shook my head vigorously.

"No. I should be sorry. I lied to you, but that's just because I thought you wouldn't--," 

"Ginny," He sounded impatient, but a smile was curving on his lips.

"And I **do** like you, but I--," His hand resting on the back of the couch was snaking slowly around my shoulders to clamp over my mouth. I tried to laugh, but the result was a muffled snort. He chuckled smugly, a light dancing in his eyes. I couldn't resist; I bit lightly on his thumb. He jumped back looking slightly shocked, that puppy-dog look on his face again.

"You **bit** me!" I laughed, backing away, out of his reach. He chuckled, advancing slowly. He was much to close, but my feet didn't seem to hold the power to move. His strong build was inches from mine. I seemed to be having a slight breathing problem. I could smell soft, but flavorful cologne, could feel his warm breath on my face. I tilted my head up to his, a stray piece of his hair tickling my forehead. There was an abrupt knock on the door. As if waking from a trance, the haze cleared, the glass shattered. The blurry, perfect moment seemed unreal, now that our attention was brought back to earth.   

"Gin? You in there?" It was Ron.

**(A/N: So it's much longer that the previous ones, but stick with me! Thanks so much to all that reviewed! Thanks for the tip, seekerpeeker, I changed my settings, so that logging in to review is not required :D )**


	5. Chapter 5

                                                                                    **Chapter Five**

I gasped. A slight groan came from in beside me. I looked at Draco; and realized that in the moment of shock of my brother being on the other side of the door, when inside, I had almost kissed **Draco Malfoy**, my arm, out of control had somehow flown into his stomach. I bit my lip, gently removing my hand. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, looking very confused. 

"Be right there, Ron!" I called, giving Draco a pointed look. He seemed momentarily frozen. Lips set tight, eyebrows lifted to their full extent. I cursed silently, and literally pulled him all the way to my room. The knocking persisted. "Give me a sec will you?! I'm…getting dressed." Draco smirked at my downright lie, before he was roughly shoved into my closet. He cursed under his breath at the minute space. In the utter chaos of this situation, I could not help but snort. I shoved shoes, and clothes aside, and placed my dirty laundry bin on the top shelf where it wobbled precariously. I put a finger to my lips, and gave him a stern look, clearly indicating he was not to make a sound, or else. He looked at me with puppy dog eyes, crammed in beside my favorite dress, and old stuffed teddy. I smiled, and gently shut the door. 

Ron's face was, as always, impatient as I let him in. He took a seat on the couch, dragging a hand through his mat of vivid red hair. I held my breath, as he slowly, lazily, turned to me.

"What's up with you?" He asked quizzically at my hasty expression. I shrugged nonchalantly. "Hmm…Uh…Oh! Right. Harry and Luna want to make sure you know that dinner's at our place tonight, Luna's bringing the food." He looked grim.

"Okay," **Get on with it Ron**.

"Right, so eat anything she gives you, and pretend to like it," He flashed me a grin, "Harry's orders." I forced a smile and nodded. He looked around slightly awkwardly, and then, deciding there was nothing else to be said, he slowly got to his feet and walked to the exit. There was a crash from my bedroom, and I was willing to bet anything it had come from the closet. He stopped in the doorway.

"I was in the middle of laundry before…basket must have fallen." I prayed he would believe my lie. But, being Ron, he had to challenge me.

"I thought you were getting dressed." 

"I was."

"While you were doing laundry…?"

"I had to wash the clothes I was wearing."

"You're weird Gin." He shook his head, and, at long last, left. I waited a few seconds until his footsteps faded down the hallway, then dashed to my room. Throwing the door open, I was caught somewhere between, mortification, alarm, and the urge to stat laughing hysterically. There stood Draco Malfoy, **the** Draco Malfoy, my dirty clothes up to his ankles, a bra slung over shoulder, and the upturned laundry basket on the ground, having narrowly missed him. He looked at me out of falsely pained eyes, and I started to laugh. 

"Ginny!" Luna's happy squeal, as always, was genuine. Everyone liked Luna; her ever-cheerful energy was naturally attractive. She always tried extra hard with me. I seemed to blame her for stealing Harry from me; although that had not been the case at all. But I was just being stubborn. I was just being a Weasley. 

I hugged her back; she seemed surprised, but the smile that now stretched her face was twinkling brightly. Her lengthy blonde hair was thrown loosely into a bun. She was wearing an apron, a dishtowel in her hand, her forehead smudged with flour. She led me inside Ron and Hermione's house. Harry was clearly visible in the kitchen, back to us, poking at the half-prepared food.

"Hey!" She cried indignantly. Harry turned towards us, a guilty look, with a hint of forced innocence on his face. I laughed. One finger was in his mouth, apparently having just swiped a large amount of the desert, which lined his lips. He yelped as Luna smacked his behind with the dish towel, and grudgingly handed him the mixing spoon. I found their open flirting no longer bothered me. A smile still on my lips, Harry and I were ushered into the den, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.

"Hey Gin." I smiled at them, giving Hermione 'the look'. She raised a quizzical eyebrow, and I tilted my head in the direction of the study. She got up, and followed me, leaving a confused Ron, who obviously did not speak girl sign language, behind with Harry.

"So?" She asked, as soon as we were sure Ron wasn't listening in. A smile on my lips, I told her the story.

When I reached the end, I knew she was close to laughter, but her lips were still pursed at the thought of me liking Malfoy.

"When are you going to tell Ron and Harry?" I stared. Hermione was a smart girl; everyone knew that, but honestly…

"I'm…not."

"Ginny…" She sighed.

"Well, at least not yet. You don't want your husband convicted of murder, now do you?" At last, she smiled.

**Thanks all that reviewed!**

**Keep 'em comin!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hmmm… okay, so this chapter has always been a bit rough in my opinion. The juicy stuff comes later on ;)**

                                                                                                            **Chapter 6**

"Now!"

"No! She'll see!"

"No she won't! Her back's turned!"

"Not for long…"

"Go, will you?!"

"No. Ha. See? She's facing us now."

"Well **now** she is, if you had—,"

"Bloody hell, have patience, will you?!"

"Now! Go!"

"Not yet…"

"Harry, you prat."

             Ron and Harry were intently watching Luna through the inside window that the kitchen was visible through, waiting until she turned her back so they could summon the bowl of dessert into the living room. I rolled my eyes, and walked towards the fireplace, where a familiar framed Daily Prophet article caught my eye. It was slightly faded, crinkled and torn from its many readings before it had been framed, but legible all the same.

                                                                                                **Malfoy Murder **

            Late last night, Lucius Malfoy was removed from his manor under charge of his wife's, Narcissia Malfoy (43), brutal slaughter, and attempted murder of his son, Draco Malfoy (18). A house-elf, upon hearing a commotion, alerted a close friend of the Malfoys, Severus Snape (47, Potions Teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry), who subdued the raging Lucius, and summoned Ministry and St. Mungo officials.

            Draco Malfoy, bound and gagged, under survetum spell, was forced to watch his own mother murdered. Malfoy Sr. then advanced on his son, for further torture, when help arrived minutes later.

            Ministry officials report that Narcissia seemed to have been murdered by knife as opposed to wand. Several gashes prior to the slit through her windpipe suggest torture, and possibly rape. Draco also suffered several knife-wounds, none fatal. He is in treatment for loss of blood, oxygen, and will be moved shortly to the trauma ward.

            Narcissia is to be buried at the Malfoy Manor, a privet funeral for close friends of the family.

            Early this morning, Lucius Malfoy has been put forward for mental consideration, which could delay his trial for up to seven weeks, and give him the alternative of an institute over prison. A shadow of doubt has been cast by many Ministry workers, in particular Percy Weasley (Assistant to the Minister of Magic).

            'Lucius Malfoy has always been in with the dark arts, and was right in with Voldemort. While there is no doubt in my mind that the choices he made were exceptionally debatable, he is an intelligent and perfectly sane wizard. His plea for psychological help is merely a weak attempt to escape Azkaban, and while he won't be overlooked, he will be tested thoroughly before he gets off.' Weasley responded when questioned.

            When released from St. Mungo's Draco Malfoy will attend the trial, to give his account of what happened. We area waiting further information.

                                                                                                            **Boris Beday**

**                                                                                                                                        The Daily Prophet **

            I felt my eyes smart, an angry fire fuelling me. The way the article was written. So proper; so lackadaisical. I knew it had been rushed, to get published the following morning, but it still seemed so cold-hearted. It had headed the front page of different papers for weeks, building up to the infamous trial. I had even seen it in a muggle paper on occasion. After that it had all been hush-hush. Lucius Malfoy had a life sentence in Azkaban, and Draco had all but disappeared…or so I thought.

            An arm draped casually around my shoulders, and I turned to see Ron's eyes scanning the article as well, a look of gruesome triumph on his face. He did not appear to be the least bit phased. Slowly, his attention turned back to me, and I saw the slightly startled look on his face as he gazed into the fire that was blazing in my own eyes. 

            Perhaps he was remembering the first time I had read the article, because he took a tentative step back. I took one foreword.

            "How could you?! How could you have that framed?! I can't believe you, you heartless s--" A familiar stubborn passion was building, one I had not felt for years. It was invigorating. Ron gulped; Harry turned to face us, and he slowly lowered his wand, with which he had been aiming carefully at the dessert. Hermione bit her lip, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

            "Gin…C'mon, it's **Malfoy**…"

            "I am perfectly aware of who it is, Ron. What I don't understand is how you could find something like that **amusing**." I had not shouted, but my tone was icier that it had ever been.

            "His family's been in the dark arts for years, they deserve it."

            "How can you think anyone deserves **that**?!" I couldn't believe someone could be so heartless. I wouldn't even expect it from Draco… the old Draco.

            "Because it's Malfoy, he's a--," Ron began. I could feel sparks practically flying from my eyes. If my wand had not been hanging in my coat pocket in the entry closet, I'm not sure I could have any control of what would happen to my **dear** brother. Thankfully, Harry, who had been watching us uncomfortably, dived in. He gave me a quick, nervous look, and led Ron away by the arm. I knew that his only motive to stop us was so the night wouldn't be ruined, and so Ron would stay in one piece. I'm sure he agreed with Ron entirely on the subject of Malfoy. 

            Still fuming, I threw myself onto the couch, arms folded, and feeling much like a toddler in the midst of a temper tantrum. I was sorely tempted to pry that damned frame, containing the aged article, from it's place, and smash it into a million pieces in the blazing brick fireplace.

            "Gin?" Hermione started quietly.

            "They don't understand," A lump was gathering in my throat. I quickly swallowed it.

            "I know. I know," Her voice was soft, and soothing, but filled with doubt all the same. I couldn't take this. In a swift motion, I stood up, and walked into the kitchen, not caring that I had left Hermione startled, and slightly hurt.

            He was my friend; in a short time he and I had become almost as close as Hermione and I were. For years he had insulted and ridiculed Hermione. Wasn't that part of the reason Ron and Harry hated him so much? Where did it say that it was fair for them to defend their friend, but wrong for me to defend mine? **But they don't know he's your friend.** An annoying voice that bore close resemblance to Hermione's nagged. Honestly, who could blame me for not telling them? If they hated him to the extent where they reveled in the loss and trauma of him **watching** his mother's rape and murder, who knows what their reaction would be?

            "Please pass the salt." My tone was rather stiffer than usual, directed at Ron. I could tell he was hurt by the tone I had been using with him all night, but I took little sympathy. Quieter than usual, and rather gloomy, he passed it over to me. I snatched it from him rougher that I probably should have, but, at the moment, I couldn't control my short temper with him. To add further insult, I then turned to Harry. "Harry, would you pass the butter please? Thank you." I gave him a friendly smile that went with my warm tone. Harry looked hesitantly at Ron, whose eyes were on his plate. We ate in silence, for a moment. Suddenly Ron's fork fell to his plate with a clatter.

            "Ginny, I really think you're being a bit melodramatic about this." My eyes flickered onto his. 

            "No, Ron, I really don't think I am." He started to speak again, but I cut him off. "I don't **care** if it's Malfoy!" I always was a good liar. "Okay? I just don't see how you can find something that horrible amusing,"

            "I don't find it amusing, I just—,"

            "What if it had been you? Not so funny anymore, is it?!" 

            "Ginny, I hardly think dad would **ever**--,"

            "That's not the point Ron. Besides, you never know. People can change." Hermione gave me a warning look, and I decided to leave it at that. I did, however, find it in my heart to forgive Ron to some extent. 

            Apart, from the rocky start, dinner went quite well. The food was surprisingly good; and when I told Luna this, her face shined with pleasure. She was okay, really. And, as I discovered after our meal, her and Harry together didn't have the same effect on me as before. Harry leaned back on the couch, looking like he could doze off at any moment. Luna's head rest on his shoulder. As I watched, he kissed her forehead lightly, gracing her features with a beam. Ron and Hermione were in a similar position, which left me feeling quite alone. I think Luna may have noticed because she voiced lightly, breaking up the silence,

            "So Ginny, any new boyfriends?" A sly smile dawned on her lips. An identical grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. Harry raised his eyebrows, and Ron sat up straighter. Luna giggled, and Hermione was silent. I felt, if possible, more uncomfortable then before, when they were in their lovey-dovey positions. All their eyes were upon me.

            "Not really," I began slowly, choosing my words carefully, "More a good friend…I mean, I've only really known him for a few days. Well not technically…but," I cleared my throat, suddenly wondering where the smooth talking I had picked up from the twins had gone to. "It's not really anything…" Words were not coming to me. A sudden random image of Draco leaning coolly on the couch of my apartment, laughing after spluttering on the horrendous coffee I had made (Coffee was not my specialty) wasn't helping. I forced my thoughts sharply back to the present, to find four sets of eyes still watching me intently.

            "And his name?" Ron had switched into over-protective brother mode. I smirked, and shook my head.

            "I don't want to make a big deal of it. Yet…"

**A/N: What did I tell you… it's crap. Ah… well… read, review, I'd be much obliged. It DOES get better, you have my word.******


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